From sting ops to YMCA

Only by God’s grace am I able to tell you my story today — and not just
because I survived three separate assassination attempts. My life was put in
danger the day I chose to come forward with the truth about the campaign
finance scandal. And though I was given government protection during the
most heated weeks of the investigation, that protection was canceled, and
government harassment has taken its place.

But before I go on, I will take this opportunity to publicly say “thank you”
to those people with honesty and integrity in the FBI’s Los Angeles
counterintelligence group. They are the best of the best. They risked their
lives to protect my family and me.

Last week, I wrote about a leak out of the Department of Justice to the
New York Times,
jeopardizing one of the crucial operations in which I was about to
participate. Obviously, the leak came from a high-ranking official who knew
about the undercover sting operation. That leak put my entire family in
jeopardy because it prompted a four-man “hit squad” from Beijing, China to
harm me and my family. As a result, we were placed under strict government
protection at a secret location.

My family grew very close during that ordeal — which was understandable
since the five of us were together in one room, including my teen-age
daughter. Every American parent can understand what that must have been
like. We were already close as a family, but being in that hotel room for
three weeks, 24 hours a day gave us a new family spirit, which was the one
thing that has enabled us to survive the last three or four years.

We later found out about a second “hit squad” — two men and one woman —
coming into LAX, but the FBI sent them back to China on the same plane.

After the immediate danger had passed, I continued cooperating in sting
operations with Robert Luu, the Chinese messenger that had been sent from
Beijing to buy my silence. Remember, he told me to keep quiet and I would
retire in style. Luu said there was a bag of money for me at his house, and
I was ready to go pick it up. But 25 minutes before the operation began, the
mission was called off.

If the operation had taken place, no matter how much money Luu gave me, the
FBI could have arrested him on the spot. But for some unknown reason, the
mission was canceled. Someone did not want Luu to get caught. If I have a
chance someday, I would like to ask U.S. Assistant Attorney Donald O’Brian,
who was the field commander for that event, why the mission was canceled.

Afterwards, there was a third assassination attempt on me, and my family was
again taken into protective custody. But one day later, the protection was
canceled. When I called the FBI to find out why, I had O’Brian on the line.

“Your case is over,” O’Brian said. “If you feel your life is in danger, just
call 911 like every other American.”

I was astounded later on when I learned that O’Brian was also John Huang’s
prosecutor. Huang, you’ll remember, was another key player in the campaign
finance scandal.

After all the information I gave the FBI and the DOJ, I haven’t seen any of
it come to light in the last three years. That is why I decided to come
forward with my first public speech at Judicial
Watch’s fifth anniversary dinner in Pasadena.
C-SPAN aired the speech nationwide.

Within 40 hours of that speech, I was slapped with a tax lien by the
California Franchise Tax Board.

A few weeks later, I received a letter from the IRS requesting more of my
tax information, all of it due on Christmas Eve.

Not only that, the Federal Election Commission decided to file a lawsuit
against me, demanding a huge fine. They sent me the letter on my birthday —
what a great birthday gift!

When I told Judge Manuel Real, who gave me my sentence, of the government’s
actions against me, he seemed surprised.

“How can they do that?” he replied. “You have already been sentenced for
criminal charges.”

I am very grateful to Judge Real for looking deeply into my case and for
giving me a second chance. In a highly unusual move, he ordered me to meet
with him every four months so that he could learn of my current situation.
It was at one of those meetings that I told him about the FEC’s civil
lawsuit and big fine against me. I thank God for this tough judge. He is the
toughest judge anyone could get, but he also has a good heart.

Despite all of the harassment, I decided to come forward to the public to
tell the truth on more than a hundred radio and television shows day and
night. Suddenly, I was ordered by the U.S. government to notify them in
advance of every radio and TV interview I gave and about every speech I
made.

I am still under that order to this day. I am also still working off the
3,000 hours of community service I was given as a punishment for my illegal
contributions to the Clintons and the Democratic National Committee.

My company, AISI — a fax broadcasting service — did most of its business
through government contracts and large companies. Since I was involved in
the campaign finance scandal, the company had lost most of its business. As
a result, I had to close my company in November 1999. I was out of a job and
could not put food on the table for my family any more, but I had strong
faith.

I said to my wife, “Honey, don’t worry. God will provide.”

And God did provide.

My mom said, “Son, I’m very proud that you came forward with your guilt and
told America the truth. Do what you think is right, and I will help you put
food on the table, even if it means I have to sell my house.”

That was the first time in my adult life that I took money from my parents.
I had always given to them, but now they were giving to me. However, that
all changed when my father was diagnosed with a life-threatening disease:
stomach cancer.

Struggling to see my ailing father — a story I will save for a later date
— and still not knowing how I could earn money to provide for my family
while performing my community service, I was told I was no longer allowed to
perform my community service at my church. I had already served there one
year and had been very valuable.

Now I was ordered to report to the La Mirada volunteer center, where I had
to pay a $70 registration fee. But thank God, I was assigned to another
Christian organization: the YMCA.

My church friends and I were nervous about the new location, because we
didn’t know what the area would be like. Would it be a rough neighborhood?
Would I be in danger? My first day, a Saturday, I reported for duty to Mr.
Rick Carlson, maintenance director at the YMCA. My friends, still concerned
for my safety, waited in the car while I went inside.

“What do you want me to do,” I asked Rick.

“We’re going to build a kitchen,” he answered.

“Build a kitchen?” I replied. “I know how to cook, but I don’t know how to
build a kitchen.”

There was a professional carpenter there also performing his community
service. I helped him by carrying wood around and guarding the electric saw
from kids, which the carpenter feared would play around the dangerous tool.

At the end of the day, I had learned how to build a kitchen. I told Rick,
“I’m not good at this.”

“I noticed that,” he said.

I told my church friends after that day that I believed these men were good
people, and my friends didn’t need to worry about me.

I went home that night, and my wife anxiously asked how my first day went.

I told her I had built a kitchen, and she said, “You did what?”

The next day, I returned to find that I had been made a janitor.

I’ve been assigned four to five hours every night, six days a week between 9
p.m. to 2 a.m., working as a janitor. This is a hard labor job. I have to
dump all the garbage, clean all the exercise equipment by wiping off all the
sweat, clean the locker rooms, and hose off the inside and outside of the
toilets and showers. I also mop the floor, sometimes even on my hands and
knees, as well as clean the basketball and racquetball courts. I have to put
all the supplies — toilet paper, paper towels and soap — in the restrooms,
and I have to wash the windows.

The most difficult part of this job is cleaning the weight room. I have to
pick up all the weights to put them back in order.

My supervisor, Tom, said to me, “Pretty much, we are cleaning a giant house
every night.”

The first week I completed my service as a janitor, Tom said, “Johnny, try
to be happy. Don’t bang your head against the wall. You need to tell people
what happened, but with heart and soul, and use humor. You’ve got an
interesting story to tell. Don’t do it like a dead man walking.”

Thank you, Tom, for that enlightening piece of advice. Once I started doing
that, people started listening.

One thing I know, God has a purpose for everybody, including me. I don’t
know what my purpose is yet, but this hard work every night is building my
physical strength and my will to tell the truth to the whole world.

I began to witness to other people performing community service at the YMCA.
Most of the people there are guilty of misdemeanors, and I’m grateful to the
YMCA for allowing criminals to serve their communities there.

One day I was cleaning the shower room when another worker, who was
vacuuming, said he was at the YMCA because he had been driving under the
influence. He was given 40 hours of community service and asked me how many
hours I’d been given.

People are always asking each other how many hours they have — it’s a
common conversation piece.

“3,000 hours,” I said.

He looked at me strangely, stopped vacuuming, and said, “Wow! What did you
try to do, kill the president?”

“No,” I said, “but it was something related to the president.”

He abandoned the vacuum, ran to Tom, the supervisor, and repeated what I
said.

Tom told him, “He just wounded the president.”

I think my 3,000 hours comforts everybody who thinks they are serving too
much time.

The next time they ask me, I’ll tell them, “I’m serving until the next
millennium.”

During my first two months at the YMCA, I lost seven pounds and three inches
around my waist. You could say I make the best spokesman for the YMCA — I
came and I lost weight. It works! If you want to lose weight, go do
community service!

I want to serve well. I clean as much as I can because I know kids play
there. I make sure they have a clean environment, and I clean with a
repentant heart.

Now, Tom often tells me to slow down.

“You’re killing yourself,” he says.

But I know I am improving my physical condition for the next thing God has
in store for me. I’m ready for wherever and whatever the Lord, Jesus Christ
has for me. And although I may not know where that will be, right now, the
Lord has me at WorldNetDaily.

I want you, the readers of this column, to know I am proud to be an
American. This is my country. I know most Americans are aware of the
campaign finance scandal and the corruption that has kept details of the
scandal from surfacing.

I chose a difficult path for a person involved in this fiasco, but I did not
choose that path because of a personal vendetta. This is an issue for the
entire country and for generation after generation. For the sake of American
history, I had to come forward with the truth and take responsibility for my
part.

I vow to write even more columns exposing that truth. I will continue to
speak the truth in the media. I will try to do my best to be a good
journalist. And I will get to the bottom of government corruption and
wrong-doing.